Little Lion Man
by gilraenstar
Summary: After taking a case on with Fiona, both her and the client are kidnapped by a russian organization of unknown origins and intentions. Now Michael and Sam have to get them before they're killed by their angry captors. CHAPTER 10 is now up! :D
1. Chapter 1

_A/N this story takes place sometime between Dead Drop and False Flag. _

_I do not own Burn Notice (I wish I did. Then I'd get to hang with Jefferey Donovan! Talk about adorable! but than Fi would probably blow me apart...) Anyway...story now!_

Little Lion Man

Chapter 1

_As a spy, you learn that friends are often no more than a burden or something that can be held over your head by the bad guys so they can get what they want. In my experience, friends can be like that, but I've learned they can be useful assets—and more importantly, they keep you from going completely insane with loneliness and the guilt of killing._

"Michael, where did you put all my C-4?" Fi searched through her duffel bags somewhere above him.

Michael Westen glanced up from his blueberry yogurt. "I moved it."

"Where? I need it for a job I'm doing!" Fiona Glennane stomped down the rickety metal stairs and strode over to face him. Michael couldn't help but notice how incredibly short her dress was today. In combination with the four-inch heels, she proved to be utterly distracting.

"What kind of job?" He asked, pulling out another yogurt and spoon and holding it out to her. She didn't take it, so Michael raised an eyebrow and replaced the items where they belonged.

"You don't need to know." She said, avoiding the question easily. "Can I have my explosives now?" Fi asked. She leaned closer to him over the countertop. "Please?"

Michael paused for a moment, acting like he was trying to decide. Actually, her outfit had made him forget where it was hidden.

"I have an idea. Tell me what the job is and I'll give it to you." Michael didn't meet her eyes, pretending he was scraping the last of his yogurt out of the bottom of the container. God, he loved yogurt.

"Fine." Fiona sighed. "My client wants me to help her out. She said the Russian mafia is coming after her for something or another."

"That sounds serious Fi. Blowing up Russians isn't going to help. That'll just piss them off." Michael stopped what he was doing in order to give her serious look.

"I'm not actually trying to kill them, I just want to scare them off." Fi sounded offended, but Michael knew she really wasn't. "I was going to ask if you wanted to help… you'd even get half of the pay…"

"Fi, you know I'm busy right now with this whole Cowan thing. I have no clue when he's gonna show."

Fiona seemed to stare straight into his soul with those beautiful green eyes. "There's a kid involved."

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Fiona had hit a nerve with those simple words. Kids had always been Michael's weak spot. He'd do anything to keep a child safe.

"All right, I'm in."

"Good. Now can I have my C-4 back?" She asked politely.

"Not until we need it." He replied simply.

"Hmph. Whatever. I'm going to meet with our client in an hour. Meet us at Reinhold's Café then."

"I'll see you there." Michael promised. Then he noticed the white of a bandage peeking out from under the material of the dress that covered her shoulder. Wait. What happened here?" He asked, stepping closer to her.

"Nothing. I tripped." She dodged it yet again. "By the way Michael," Fi said before walking out the door. "You forgot to check my purse." She held up two little gray packages of the explosives.

Michael smiled after she walked out triumphantly.

No one could come between Fi and her C-4. Not even an ex-spy.

*(*)*

"Thank you so much for coming." The client stood up and greeted Michael warmly. "I'm Ninel Miller."

Fiona sat at the opposite side of Ninel at the little table on the street. He pulled up a wicker chair and sat next to her, leaning forward on the glass surface, ready to listen to the clients story.

"Tell him what happened Ninel. He's helping me with your case." Fiona commented when she noticed how reluctant the client was.

" I was a born Russian, Mr. Westen, and my father managed to get my brother and I out in 1987. I was only one month old at the time. My brother was already four. No one ever really explained why we had to leave St. Petersburg."

"How'd he get you out? I thought the curtain was still up in '87." Michael asked, taking a sip out of the glass of water the waitress had brought him.

"To a degree, yes. I don't know how he did it, he just smuggled us out as fast he could and we lived in Pittsburgh for about 10 years before we moved down here. It was after my father died that things started flaring up. I started getting these calls from Russian hit men. They were looking for my brother—they said that he had stolen something valuable to them."

"When did your father die, Ninel?" Fiona asked.

"A year ago."

"Are you married?"

"No. I'm a widow. They say my husband Jake died in a car crash, but I think they killed him. Now it's just me and my two year old." She said. Grief was clear in her eyes, but she held it together, not allowing herself to cry.

"Do you have any idea what your brother might have stolen? Or when he might have taken it?" asked Michael. He was starting to see more complications arise by the minute.

"I have no clue what he would've taken, but he did take my father's body back to Russia after he died. Maybe he made his move when he was there." She suggested

"It makes sense," Fi admitted. She took another swig of her lemonade. "You say that they didn't start coming after you until after your father died. That means it quite likely that he took the thing and high tailed it back to America."

"Okay, have any names of the people harassing you?"

"Only one would give me his name. Leonid Merenov. He says he's the leader."

Michael leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The leader of what though?" He muttered to himself. "Where is your son now?"

"He's staying with some friends. I didn't want to leave him on his own or bring him along." Ninel rummaged through her purse and pulled out an envelope that was full to bursting. "I can give you ten thousand, cash. Please. I just need to figure out what's happening. They've been threatening to hurt my son." Now a single tear trailed down her face.

"We'll help you. Now, if you get any more calls or anything from this Merenov person, I want you to tell us, okay? Make sure you keep your son in the safest place possible. We'll get back to you when we get something. Until then, act normal. Did you call the police?"

"No. They threatened to kill my child."

Michael had no choice in the matter. He agreed to take the case with Fiona. When the grateful women left, they sat there awkwardly, unsure what to say to each other.

Fiona made the first move. "Well, do you think we should call Sam?"

"Yeah. I'll ask him what he can find on Merenov and we'll go from there. I'll be back at the loft, if you find anything call me." Michael stated simply. He put his sunglasses back on and took out his keys, climbing in the Charger and starting it up.

The other door opened and Fi climbed in next to him. "I think I'll join you."

"Okay, then."

"So… what do you think of this new case we have?" Fi asked, popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

"It's… interesting. I only wonder what her brother stole to make the Russians mad."

"For all we know it could be something stupid. Nowadays Russians are easy to anger." Fiona said this as if she knew from experience. It wouldn't be surprising if she _did_ know this from experience.

"Fi are you trying to tell me something?" Michael asked, glancing over at her during a red light. They turned the corner and pulled up to the gate in front of the stairs to the loft. Michael got up and unlocked the padlock and opened them.

"Well… no." Fi waited to answer until the car was parked, the gate relocked and they were in the loft.

"Yes, you are. What did you do?"

"Nothing. I just… kind of know the guys who are after her."

"And…?" He prompted.

"Now that they know I'm with her… they're…after me again."

Michael gaped at her. "How do they know we're helping her?"

"They saw us when she met me the first time. They shot at us a couple times, and we both ran. Either way, they know I'm involved." She shrugged like it was no big deal; like it were something she dealt with daily. Which she kind of did, of course.

"So that's where this came from?" Michael asked, gently touching the bandage on her right shoulder.

"They just clipped me. Not really bad at all, but yes."

"You going to head back to anytime soon Fi?" Michael asked, grabbing yet another yogurt.

"My, my, Michael. Trying to get rid of me?"

"No. I was actually going to try and convince you to stay. They might be waiting at your place."

"I guess I can spend the night. Where should I sleep?"

"I don't know. The bed."

"And where will you sleep?"

"The floor, I guess."

Fiona sighed. "You know, for being a hopeless romantic you're pretty chivalrous."

"What, you wanna sleep on the floor?" He offered with a half smile.

Fiona didn't answer, simply plopping onto the stacked mattresses and ignoring him.

"I thought so."

*(*)*

"Hey, Sam. What did you find on Merenov?" Michael asked quietly, trying not to wake Fi

"Well, Mike, he's a tricky bastard. He's been accused of seven different murders but they've all been dismissed as self-defense. He worked as a bodyguard for the Russian president for nearly twenty years before he was fired—no clue why though. He managed to get back in two years ago after cleaning his files up."

A knock at the door interrupted Sam's findings. "One sec, Sam. Someone's at the door." Michael put the phone down. Fiona lifted her head slowly, looking drowsy but somewhat alert. The knocking had wakened her.

Grabbing his M1911 from where it lay, he checked it for ammo and cocked the slide back quietly.

He yanked the door open, aiming right at a man in a black suit. Before he could even get off a shot, the man twisted his gun away from him and smashed his knee into ribs. Michael fell to the ground, gasping for air. He scrabbled to where his gun had fallen, but the man stopped him with another swift kick to the ribs. Michael heard two ris snap the same time pain rushed to him. Colors swam before his eyes, but he still saw the man in a suits buddy holding onto a struggling Fiona.

After holding a cloth to her mouth, she fell limp in his arms.

Michael passed out.

*(*)*

_Okay, first Burn Notice fanfic! I just recently got into it and I started watching episodes on the internet. I just _HAD_ to write a story! I mean these characters are just so epic, I couldn't help but steal them for a while. _

_and the title, Little Lion Man, is a song by Mumford and Sons is what i listened to while I wrote this. I think that the song really seems to fit Mike, Sam and Fiona, anyway, I don't own Mumford and Sons either so phooey on that._

_Please review and critique! Please! Tell me if you hate it or something at least! I'd like at least two reviews before I post the second chapter._


	2. Chapter 2

I'm glad you guys all liked it so much! I really didn't expect as many comments as I got, but it was heartening to know everyone really thought it was good.

_BTW there are parts where they speak Russian. The translation for what they say comes right after the Russian dialogue. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to tell when It's Michael and when it's the other guy. enjoy and dont forget to comment. :3_

Little Lion Man

Chapter 2

"What do you think they're going to do to us?" Ninel whispered, her voice cracking a little. She was holding up incredibly well compared to past clients. Most of them would've already broken down and just given the information that was wanted.

Even in the dark, Fiona could tell that Ninel was just starting to crack a tiny bit. Her movements were choppy and she shivered, even though it was warm and humid in the little cramped cell they shared. Any noise scared her into flinching.

Fi kept calm, whispering encouragement and niceties to Ninel, but she had no clue how to answer her question truthfully without making it sound gruesome and insensitive. "I don't know. If they haven't killed us yet, it probably means they won't kill until we give them what they want."

"So we don't tell them? We don't even know anything though!" Ninel said, her voice rising a little and along with the panic level.

"They don't know that. If they know we don't have the information they're looking for, they'll kill us as soon as they get a chance." Fiona took a shaky breath. "We'll just have to hold out until Michael can get to us."

"Come with me." A gruff voice said, opening the heavy lead door. Fiona got to her feet with a little trouble from the hand ties, helping Ninel up as well.

The man had a Makorov 9mm strapped quite visibly onto his belt, and Fi couldn't help but drool a little. An idea formed in her head, and before she even bothered to think about it in more detail, she put it into effect.

Fiona elbowed Ninel and murmured quietly, "On the count of three, I want you to reach around and start choking him. When I say stop, stop."

Ninel gave her a slightly frazzled look, but she nodded, showing she understood.

"1…" The man kept leading them forward, letting them drag behind a tiny bit and thinking nothing of it. "2…" Ninel got ready to do her bidding. "3!" Fi hissed.

Ninel jumped forward, looping her tied together hands around the mans neck. The ma struggled, gasping out several Russian curses, as he tried to dislodge the woman that was choking him. Fi slipped the gun out of its holster and held it up to the mans head.

"We're gonna let you breath. Scream and your dead."

Ninel loosened her hold, but didn't remove the pressure completely.

The man took in a gasping breath and the start of a bellow low in his throat.

Fiona punched him hard across the side of the head and he dropped limp to the ground.

"Let's see if we can get out of—." Fi began, but she was quickly cut of by the sound of another mans voice.

"You are going nowhere Miss Glennane—or should I say, Mrs. Westen.

*(*)*

Michael jolted awake, sitting up so fast that he smashed his head of the persons' above him.

"Damn, Mikey! Trying to give me a concussion?" A familiar voice said above.

Michael only now opened his eyes to see Sam Axe, rubbing his head.

"Sam." Michael didn't even apologize, just wanting to get straight to the point. "Where's Fi?"

"They got her, brother." Sam admitted quietly.

Michael struggled into a better position, trying to stand. Sam pushed him back gently.

"Just gimme a second Mike. Jeez! I know you're worried about Fi, but she's a big girl. She can take care of herself for a little while." Sam handed Michael a bottle of water and a yogurt. At this point in time however, yogurt was the last thing Michael wanted.

"Sam, every minute we waste here-."

"I said, _give me a minute_. You broke two ribs Mikey. You're not going anywhere until I fix them up at least a little. It's not a waste of time if it'll keep you from getting yourself killed."

"Sam, I am _fine._"

"Come on Mike. I'll let you play hero in like two seconds, just hold still for now." Sam promised, taking another gulp from a bottle of beer. Three other already emptied bottles already littered the floor around Michaels bed, showing that either had been out cold for a while, or Sam had just set a new record.

Michael tried not to fidget while Sam taped his ribs up, but he couldn't help it. They throbbed in pain mo matter how tiny the movement he made.

"Okay, I'm do-" Before Sam could even finish the sentence, Michael was already up and moving, going over to grab his phone from where he had set it prior to the attack.

He glanced at it, and then dialed Fi's number, knowing that it would probably be useless.

Michael found his assumption to be correct when the ringing of Fiona's phone was loud and clear in his loft. "Dammit." He growled, resisting the urge to throw his phone clear across the room and instead settled for putting it in his pocket.

"What should we do Mikey?" Sam asked, grabbing yet another beer from the fridge after finishing his fourth bottle.

Michael sat in his green chair, wincing at the movement, and held his head in both hands.

Just then, Michael's phone rang. He scrambled to pull it back out of his pocket and flipped it open. According to caller ID it was his mother. Wasn't it a little too late for her to be calling? It was already 3 A.M. "Hello?"

"Michael, I just got a weird text from a weird number. Did someone take Fiona?"

"What did it say?" Michael asked quickly, both hope and fear sparking simultaneously.

"It said, 'have Fiona and client. Meet at noon 2day at this address or she dies.'"

Michael rubbed his forehead, and retrieved a random pencil and piece of paper. "What was the address, Ma?"

"I think it's the old bar on the Southside. Sam should know it."

Michael wrote down the address as his mother repeated it to him, and then showed it to Sam. "You know this place?"

"Hell yeah. They make the best damn White Russians on the block, as ironic as that is." Sam took another chug of his beer and discarded yet another bottle.

Michael couldn't help but pick up on the irony that radiated in the statement.

"Michael, if they have Fiona…"

"Don't worry Ma. We'll get her back."

"You better. I want to see my son get married before I die, and Fiona is the best chance I've got." With that Maddie hung up, leaving Michael a little stunned for words.

"Do you think it's a trap?" Sam asked after Michael replaced the phone on the counter.

"I dunno, Sam. We don't really have a choice. We can go out later, do some surveillance, for now though-." Sam cut him off.

"We should get some sleep Mikey. We're supposed to meet them at lunchtime today and it's what? Almost 3:30 in the morning. Let's get some rest brother. I'll take the floor."

"Fine Sam," Michael agreed easily. "But have to be up by at least nine. Okay?"

Sam didn't reply. He had already fallen asleep on floor with one of the blankets he stole off of Michael's bed.

" G'night," Michael muttered. He rolled over onto his side, unable to avoid pain any other way, and lulled off to sleep reluctantly.

*(*)*

It was a combination of light and a dull ache that woke Michael sometime late that morning. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and noticed that Sam was nowhere to be seen.

On the little table beside his bed, were a yogurt, his sunglasses, and the keys to his car, as well as a little note.

'Mike,

Doing surveillance over at the bar. Come by when you wake up.

, Sam

Michael groaned and stood up slowly, stumbling over to the countertop. He retrieved himself a spoon and opened his yogurt, but found with a certain surprise that he still didn't want it. So, he taped plastic wrap around the top and set it back in the fridge for later.

He grabbed his keys, put on his sunglasses on and headed out.

Hey there brother! You sure slept in!" Sam announced, clapping him soundly on the back. Michael grunted to remind Sam he was still injured, but the ex-SEAL didn't catch the memo.

Michael checked his watch, and made an annoyed sound. "Sam, it's already 11:30! You should called and woken me up!"

"Well, sorry Mikey. Maybe if you wouldn't have gotten the crap beaten out of ya, I would've gotten you up bright and early." Sam took a sip of his mojito before continuing to say, "Did you here the sarcasm in my voice? Just wanna make sure you know I'm joking. Besides Mikey, anyone who breaks a bone shouldn't be moving around too awfully much afterward."

"Yeah, I know Sam… I'm just a little stressed out right now."

"Whoa there, did you just admit to being stressed? Next thing ya know you'll be telling me you and Fi are getting married!"

When Michael didn't reply, Sam instantly took it the wrong way. "No way Mikey, are you?"

"No Sam. We are not getting married! We're not even dating!" Michael hissed across the table.

"Ya had me going there a moment. You almost had me worried about little Mike's and Fi's running around, blowing up Miami."

He couldn't help it. Michael leaned forward and said quietly, "Hey Sam, wanna know a super spy secret?"

"Yeah sure." Sam leaned in closer too, until he almost nose to nose with Michael.

Sam didn't expect being slapped by his friend. "I guess I deserve that." Sam confessed, rubbing the red mark on his face as a result of being hit by an angered Michael.

"Yes, you really did." Michael went back to his normal pretense of reading the paper.

"I think they're here a little early…" Sam whispered a second later, all humor leaving his expression in a moments notice.

"Ahh, you must be Michael Westen."said a mans voice that was heavily accented. He was obviously Russian, no doubt about it. It took all Michael had to restrain himself from grabbing the mans collar and demanding answers about Fi.

"I do not remember telling you zhat you could bring a guest?"

"You never said I couldn't. In fact you didn't say much of anything."

"Ve Russians are not as talkative as humans. Ve tend to keep vital information to ourselves." The Russian took a seat next to Sam and eyed the ex-SEAL disapprovingly.

"Marines?" The Russian asked, but he didn't really seem interested in the answer.

"Navy. Big difference." Sam said, trying hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Eh. Matters not. You all sound the same when you scream."

Sam couldn't keep the horrified look off his face for long.

"Anyvays. Back to business." The man said, regarding Sam's expression as if it were a reaction he was used to. "I am zhe messenger, hence I have a message for you." The messenger took out a torn sheet of paper and handed it over to Michael.

"I can not talk to you vith this marine—."

"Navy." Sam growled. He was ignored again.

"—with him listening in."

"Тогда давайте говорить на вашем языке. Он не знает этого." Then let us speak your language. He does not know it.

"Как я знаю, что ты не врешь?" How do I know you are not lying?

"Sam. Если вы можете понять меня, вы будете вставать и уходить." If you can understand me, you will get up and walk away."

Sam stared at him blankly. "Err…what?"

"Этого вполне достаточно." Good enough. "Девочек мы имеем в нашем распоряжении слабеть. Если вы даете нам, что мы хотим, они умрут" The girls we have in our posession grow weak. Unless you give us what we want they will die.

Michael bit his lip. "Мы еще не знаем, что вы хотите." We still don't know what you want.

"The Chain of Office. Существует никакой реальной русской слово. Я уверен, вы знаете, что это такое." There is no real Russian word for it. I'm sure you know what it is.

The Chain of Office has been used in the inaugural process for Russian presidents for a while now, as well as a special copy of the Russian Constitution.

"Я знаю об этом. Так было украдено?" I do know of it. So it has been stolen?

"Да. По женской брата. Он до сих пор не вышли из дерева." Yes. By the women's brother. He has yet to come out of the woodwork.

"I'll see what I can do." Michael said simply. The man left without another word.

"Mikey, what did you say? You know I don't speak Russian right?"

"Yes. Which is exactly why we were speaking it." Michael explained. The two climbed in the Charger and headed back to the loft.

"So what's up with the girls then? And what about that note?" Sam finally asked, breaking the long silence.

"Oh yeah." Michael unfolded the piece of paper and looked at the terrible scribble that was barely recognizable as English. His heart practically stopped.

"_Mike,_

_We're okay. Remember Dublin? BTW your favorite Russian thinks we're married._

_Love,_

_Fiona."_

At first Michael couldn't help but grimace. "What's up with everyone thinking we're married? First My mom, then you, and now that stupid Russian."

"Dunno, Mikey. Maybe everyone but you two knows you guys are just perfect for each other."

Michael simply glared at him.

Sam was quick to change the subject. "So what does she mean by Dublin?"

"Back when we were in Dublin together we caused a lot of havoc, but I think she's referring to the time when we were both captured for information and we had to hold out for rescue or be killed. She's trying to tell us to hurry."

A picture was also included, paper clipped to it after being folded two times to many. Opening the little square, Michael took heart in seeing the two girls alive and well in the picture, albeit Fiona looking a little angry and Ninel scared. Fiona held in her hand a copy of the days newspaper in one hand, her other hand forming a V-shape.

"Defiantly that mission then." Michael muttered. The V shape was directly from _Star Trek._ Fi used it as a hand signal that meant 'Come and get me'

"If I may ask, what exactly happened?" Sam said.

"We had a similar problem with an Irish gang. They say we had stolen some of there big guns and managed to capture Fi and I. We had I plan and managed to get pretty far, but Fi got recaptured and I got out. They sent a picture like this with a newspaper. Fi had done the same pose. I got back in by acting like I was a new recruit named Michael McBride. We escaped with our lives as well as a few broken bones and some new scars."

"So you think Fi wants you to try and pull that skit again?"

"Yeah, but we'll have to find a different way to get in."

"You know, If Fi we're here, I'd bet she wanna blow something up." Sam said, sounding a little sullen.

"And that's probably just what we'll have to do. Meanwhile, I want you to see what you can find out about The Chain of Office that was stolen."

"You got it. What're you gonna do Mikey?"

"Don't know quite yet. Maybe I'll try and find her brother and get him to tell us what's up."

"All righty then. By the way Mike, I'm gonna need some more money for beer. I kinda drank it all and-."

A wad of cash flew across the room and hit Sam in the face. "Thanks Mike!" Sam called after him as he walked out the door.

*(*)*

Okay it's kind of filler ish, but it was kind of nessacary. Now you know they're starting to formulate a plan. I couldn't help nbut put those marriage jokes in. It seems like Fi and Michael are always getting teased about it:3.

The Russian is thanx to google translate, so sorry if you know Russian and its like, really bad. And another thing before I go, the name Ninel, is actually Lenin spelled backwards. It was a popular name back when Lenin was the main Russian president/king/terrorizing guy.

And, that's all for now, at least two reviews before the next post like last time, but I have a feeling I'll probably get more:3 ty to all who reviewed on chapter one!

Love,

gilraenstar :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N chapter 3 is here! sorry its late, and I hope you like it! :3

Little Lion Man

Chapter 3

"We're not married." Was the first thing Fiona had to say to the man that had kidnapped them. They had been stuck into yet another tiny room, a bright light practically blinding them, but there was no mistaking the evil smirk/crazy smile on Merenov's face.

Leonid Merenov raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you two would have tied the knot by now. I suppose you never were someone who would marry."

Fi held Ninel's hand underneath the table, trying to keep her calm. The women wisely kept her mouth shut, which was something to be said when compared to past clientele.

"Whatever the case, we need to get your brother to come from zhe shadows."

"My brother doesn't have what you want." Ninel said shakily.

Merenov laughed to himself quietly, like the statement was no more than a joke that might be told at the dinner table. "He does. He just doesn't know it yet. So." Merenov pulled a Ka-bar from out of its case and ran his finger along the edge carefully. "Are you going to tell me where Pavel is?"

"Never." Ninel spat at him angrily.

Merenov simply smiled. "Suit yourself. Come with me, Fiona."

Two burly men appeared from out of nowhere, taking Fi roughly by the arms and dragging her away.

"Don't worry Ninel. I'll be okay." Fi called when Ninel gave her a terrified look. Fi knew she was lying a little too well.

*(*)*

_In covert ops, information is just as good as guns and explosives. It can even keep you alive where said guns and explosives cannot. If you have all the information you need, than all you need to do is formulate a proper plan, and execute it fairly well. Go in with little to no information and you'll likely just get yourself killed. Unfortunately, you don't always have all the information. When that happens, you'll just have to play along and hope everything works out. If it doesn't, go from there and improvise and most importantly—try _not _to get you or the hostages you might be trying to help, killed._

"What did you find out Sam?" Michael asked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Sam retrieved a beer before coming over to sit down and give him an answer. "Not much Mikey. It has been reported to the Russian feds about a year ago, I guess the news never really made it over here. The Chain of Office is basically just a really fancy necklace, looks like something Fi might actually wear to some crazy Russian party."

"Russians are to stubborn to admit something like that to the U.S." Michael replied in a monotone, ignoring the last part.

"Come Mike, loosen up a bit brother. We'll get Fi back, we just gotta think this through. I know what'll make you feel better!" Sam exclaimed happily a grin spreading across his face.

"What?" Michael asked, still looking through multiple files and folders on The Chain of Office.

"A joke. Whatdya call it when a bunch of Russians get together for a party?"

Michael just glanced up at him with a look that said, '_and this will cheer me up how?'_

"Aww, no guess?"

"I don't know, the Communist rock?"

"Nope. The Soviet Reunion."

Michael face palmed, and sighed. "That was terrible Sam."

"I came up with it my self about to seconds ago." Sam shrugged. "I thought it was funny."

"We really need to start thinking this through now Sam. Can get you back in the game here? We don't have much time." Michael could barely keep the annoyance from his tone.

"Yeah. Anyway, I located the brother. He's actually here in Miami, lucky for us. Apparently he was told about his sisters situation and came here looking."

"We have to find him before he does something stupid." Michael glanced up at Sam, and took the files that were handed to him. "Did you get his number?"

"It's in there yeah,. I got most of his personal files. The guys not a criminal. He's got nothing on his report. It's almost like he doesn't do anything. He's got no criminal history; he's only ever had one job at a publishing company as one of the editors. He married though apparently, with two kids. Nothing incriminating to speak of. He always flies under the radar."

"Which could mean he's either goody two shoes or he knows how to cover his tracks."

"Apparently not well enough if it's the latter of the two." Sam said quietly.

Michael found the cell number among the small stack of files, and pulled out his phone, dialing it. It rang three times prior to the man picking up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, are you Pavel?" Michael asked, glancing down at the papers to find the name.

"…Yes."

"I'm Michael, I'm trying to help out your sister Ninel. Do you think you could meet me somewhere private?"

"You know what's happening with my sister?" His voice cracked with panic that had built up over the week. "Is she okay?"

"She was alive yesterday for sure. We believe she is okay though. What about that meeting then?"

"I can meet you anywhere, I don't care as long as you can help my sister."

"Okay, how about my place?" Michael said. He gave the man the address.

"One more thing…" Pavel said, sounding small and a tiny bit lost and childish.

"Yes?"

"Who are you exactly?"

Michael thought about it for a second. "I'm a guy who can help you." With that Michael hung up.

"Mikey, you realize you gave him…"

"My moms address. I know. I don't want to bring him here. They know where I live."

"Are you gonna tell Maddie?"

"Ehh…actually Sam, I was going to ask you to tell her. I've got some bombs to make."

Sam sighed. "Fine. Sam Axe the secretary will do it. You owe me Mikey."

"I already gave like fifty bucks for beer."

Sam considered it. "All right." He admitted. "We're even then."

*(*)*

Fiona was struggling to stay awake at this point. By now, she had stopped being able to feel the multiple blows and cuts all over her body. None of her wounds would kill her, but they all stung and bled ruby droplets that fell and painted a picture of pain and anguish all over the ground.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" Merenov asked.

"Never." Was the same reply she gave every time he asked.

"Fine." Merenov waved at his cronies and they released the handcuffs that held Fi suspended on the wall.

She fell to the ground in a heap, a small moan of pain slipping through her teeth.

"Перерыв ноги." Break her leg.

Even if Fi had understood

One of the men stepped forward, stomping down forcefully on Fi's leg.

For the first time since the torture started Fi cried out. She curled up on her side choking out a single sob and then staying silent as new pain coursed through her. She had heard the break before she felt it, but now the pure agony shredded through her like she was no more than a flimsy piece of paper.

"She might not be ready to talk, but her friend will be." Merenov said somewhere in the distance. Everything seemed so far away…

Someone picked her up roughly, igniting new tones and shades of ache, but Fi didn't do anything. Her strength was all but evaporated. Once more she could only hope that Ninel would stay quiet.

Once again hope was her final option.

*(*)*

"So you're bringing another random person into my house?" Madeline drawled, taking another deep breath and puffing out smoke on her cigarette.

"Well, he's not random. He's a client I guess you could say." Sam tried to explain unsuccessfully. Sam hefted in the little C-4 bombs that Michael had spent the entire morning prepping.

Madeline half ignored him and turned to Michael, who stared out the window, waiting for Pavel to show. "Did you get you're future wife back yet?" Maddie asked.

"We're not even dating, Ma." Michael told her for the umpteenth time.

"Well you should be." Madeline said fiercely.

"I'm gonna go drink somewhere that's not here." Sam spoke up, taking his beer and walking out to the garage. Michael glared after him.

"Seriously Michael, you two are so alike! Why shouldn't you be dating her? You're always in a better mood when she's around." She took another drag on her cigarette, much to Michaels distaste.

"Mom, you know I'm not good at relationships… the fact is that I can't-."

"Can't what Michael? Can't look past this whole losing your job crap to see the perfect woman for you standing beside you through all your shenanigans? God, Michael! Even with all you're brains you're still an idiot sometimes!"

Michael blinked. He had no clue how to reply to that.

The doorbell rang, saving Michael another line of insults and such form his mother.

"I'll get it!" Sam announced, coming back in just in time to get the door before Michael did.

"We'll discuss this later." Madeline said.

"Hi." The man said nervously. "Are you Michael?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I came when I could. I was being followed."

"Did you loose them?" Michael asked quickly his heart rate instantly shooting up.

"Yeah. I circled around the entire city about twice and they fell back. They're gone."

"Hi, I'm Maddie." Madeline said, coming forward to shake Pavel's hand. "You already met my son, and that's Sam."

"Hiya."

"You live with you're mom?" Pavel asked, eyebrow quirking.

"Long story." was all Michael said in answer.

"So," Michael said after they all took a seat in the living room. "Do you have the Chain of Office?" He just went straight to the point.

Pavel didn't answer right away, unsure of what to tell them. "Yes."

Michael didn't expect him to actually say he had it. "And why haven't you given it to them?"

"I didn't steal it for myself, if that's what you're thinking" Pavel said quickly. "My father Andrei was a part of the Russian government. He was an ambassador. That's why we moved here. That's what my father said anyway. When I was in Russia… I heard two men talking about a plan they had made to steal the Chain of Office. Normally, I would just hint of the police, but when I heard that it was Merenov behind it… I knew there was no time for it. So, using my fathers access card, I got in and took it."

"Was your father still alive at that point?"

"Yes." Pavel whispered. "But when they realized that it was my fathers access card that had been used, they chased him down. He was shot and killed in Moscow."

"And you still have the Chain of Office?" Sam asked.

Pavel nodded. "I have it with me."

"Haven't they traced it back to you though?"

Pavel shook his head. "They suspected me at first of course, but I slipped away after their questions and they haven't seen me since. I've being keeping my head down, hoping they'll forget me and my sister."

"That was a year ago though… Did you ever tell Ninel the whole story?" Michael asked.

"No. But it was for her safety. I didn't want her to be included in this. Apparently she is though." Pavel hung his head in his hands. "What're we going to do?"

"We're working on it. Tell me… what did you hear they were planning to do?"

"They we're talking about how to steal it, and what they were going to do was use it to get something from the president. I don't know what exactly." Pavel admitted slowly.

"It doesn't matter. We're going to have to get the girls back somehow."

"Girls?" said Pavel,

"One of our people was taken too." Sam explained.

"So here's the plan." Michael said quietly, "We're going to offer a trade. The Chain of Office for Ninel and Fi."

"Mike, we can't do that! Didn't she want you to do the Dublin thing?"

"It won't work considering the circumstances. We'll just get shot down." Michael continued. "When they bring out the girls, you'll hand him the Chain and we'll take him down from there."

"You want _me_ to deliver it to Merenov?"

"Yes."

"…Okay. And you two are going to get Ninel and you're friend?"

"Sam's going to be sniping from a higher position about 100 yards away. I'll be hiding somewhere close so I can take out any guards he'll have with him. It's your job to get the girls somewhere safe."

"Anything else?" Pavel asked.

"Yeah. You have a gun?"

"Beretta M9A1. I'm pretty good with it. Can't shot anything too far away, but it's a good gun."

"Hopefully you won't be needing it."

*(*)*

"So… who is it that they took from you guys?" Pavel asked.

"Her names Fiona." Michael replied, not giving a last name. Not that it really mattered. He tried to pay attention to where they were headed. Pavel was driving them over to the sight after they had called and set up the meeting.

"Is she your girlfriend or something?" Pavel asked glancing away from the road a moment.

"No. She's just a friend who happens to be a woman." Michael said through clenched teeth.

"Oh. I catch you're drift man. I'm guessing it didn't work out?"

"This is a conversation we might have _after_ we do our rescue mission." Michael growled.

"Oh, yeah. Right. So where's your buddy?"

"Sam is already in position. Leave me off here. I'll walk the rest of the way so they don't get suspicious."

"We're still a mile away." Pavel protested. He still slowed down and drifted toward the side of the dirt road.

"I know. It's not that bad." Michael said simply as Pavel pulled over and dropped him off at the side of the street._Operations with amateurs are always hard. They never seem to go well. Sometimes you just have to hope they know their part well enough to keep everyone from getting killed._

***(*)***

_sorry it's way late, but I was procrastinating, so I give you this chapter at like midnight and hope all is forgiven! Anyway an important note, no offense is meant to you Russians, so if I offended anyone it was not on purpose and I'm sorry.! I love Russia! Woot!_

_Another thing, The Chain of Office, which is the thing that Merenov is after, actually exists, so it's not made up or anything. It's still used today for inaugural purposes in Russia. It does look like a necklace basically, but way more Bad ass. It's got the Russian colors and coat of arms on it and it looks really epic. Go google it and check it out. Don't forget to leave a comment!_

_Anyway BIG thanks to everyone who has commented so far! I loves you all :3_

_gilraenstar _:D


	4. Chapter 4

Yay I updated finally! Yeah, sorry it took me so long, didn't mean to take such a long break between the last one and this , enjoy and review :D :D :D

Little Lion Man

Chapter 4

"Don't tell him anything!" Fiona shouted. One of the guards smashed the butt of his rifle into her face, earning her yet another bruise and making her vision swim. _Where are you Michael?_ Fi thought desperately.

"Merenov. The brother has called and wants to make a deal." Another man rushed into the dank cell of torture, holding out a phone.

Merenov plucked the phone from his hands and turned away from Fi and Ninel.

"You wish to make a deal? Then speak."

A pause followed where Pavel told him of the deal they would make. Fiona strained her ears, but couldn't make out anything past a quiet murmur. Ninel gave her a hopeful look, and she returned it warily. She had no clue what Michael was going to do. She wasn't sure if he had taken notice of her message through the hand shape.

"Fine. Meet at the abandoned warehouse on 21st street. Bring anyone else and we all die."

"Ah, you want prove zhey are alive? Fine." Merenov held the phone down to Ninels ear and she whispered to him, "We're okay Pavel. Mostly." Before Ninel could elaborate, Merenov hung up, the phone snapping closed with a foreboding sense of closure.

"Get a cast on her leg. I doubt they vill be happy we deliver damaged goods, but it felt necessary."

Merenov hadn't thought about what hell might rain down from Michael Westen after hurting his friend. Now he was slightly apprehensive.

*(*)*

Sam was already in position somewhere above them on the roof of the warehouse, scope on his sniper rifle focused on Pavel's back as he fidgeted, playing with a rosary.

"You see them Sam?" Michael asked over the walky talky.

"No not—oh wait. Black SUV coming from the west." Sam said, momentarily pulling his view from Pavel.

"All right I see it. It's definitely Merenov." His voice was low and he stayed quiet despite the fact that Merenov wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Where are you Mike? I can't see you." Sam glanced around the area, but couldn't find Michael.

"Look straight down and to the left a little. I'm hiding behind the bushes."

Sam did so, and caught sight of the glare off of Michael's sunglasses.

"Ah, okay. Might wanna take those off Mikey. The glare'll give you away right quick. You got the bow and arrows?"

"Yeah." The glare disappeared as Michael took them off and placed them in a pocket.

"All right we are good to go."

Merenov stalked out from the passenger side, a muscular friend joining him to stand in front of Pavel, who seemed like a twig in comparison.

"You have the Chain of Office?" Merenov asked coldly.

"Y…yes. But you have to give the girls to me first." Pavel said, only stuttering a tiny bit.

"I vill show you they are alive, but I will only give them to you once I have what I want in my hands."

Pavel nodded slowly, pulling the chain from his pocket and holding it closely to himself.

Merenov smiled and whistled, causing the other two car doors to open and reveal Ninel and Fiona, injured, but alive.

Michael clenched a fist when he saw Fi, rage boiling from deep inside him to the point where he nearly shot the bastard Merenov himself. He merely readied himself, stringing an arrow and pulling it back.

Fi leaned heavily on Ninel, her breathing shallow and pained. Just before they had gotten in the car to come to the meeting, she tried another escape attempt, only earning herself several whip marks on her back and more bruises to add to her current collection. She could feel blood still running slowly down the small of her back and staining her shirt red.

Ninel and Fiona were prompted forward by a less than nice shove. Michael gritted his teeth, and tried not to think about how bad Fi was hurt. He would address that later. His grip tightened on the bow as he peered down the length of the arrow at his target.

Pavel handed the Chain of Office to Merenov, and the burly guard threw the girls toward him, making Fiona stumble and nearly fall, her broken leg still not taking weight correctly.

Merenov smiled and held up the Chain of Office to the sunlight.

That was when Michael let the arrow loose. It flew through e air straight and true, snagging the glittering thing from the Russians hand. The arrow buried itself in a tree across the road the Chain of Office still threaded around it.

Sam shot down the two guards that ran after it, and then shot the one that stood next to Merenov.

By the time the Russian had time to comprehend what had happened, Michael had already crossed the distance between them and tackled him, giving Fi, Ninel and Pavel time to get away to safety.

Merenov snarled at him, struggling to move enough to reach the pistol hidden in his jacket. Michael noticed the motion, and tried to keep his arms pinned. A solid blow to his still broken ribs made Michael cry out and crumple the ground for a moment before he regained enough sense through redoubled pain to try and wrestle the gun away. A shot went off, a bullet tearing through the air and burying itself in Merenov's shoulder. The Russian screeched curses in his native tongue, and gaining just enough of an angle with the muzzle of the pistol, pulled the trigger on purpose this time.

Now it was Michael's turn to cry out, as the projectile tore through the muscles of his right arm and buried itself deep. Michael just barely managed to wrench the still warm gun from Merenov and smash the butt of it against the side of the Russians head.

Merenov fell limp.

Michael stumbled back and away from him, glancing around as he breathed heavy. Blood had started tumbling from the wound, trailing down the length of his arm. Michael pressed his palm against trying to stem the flow as fast as possible. He walked across the road, retrieving the Chain of Office from where it hung on the arrow.

Sam looked down at him from the roof; worry was clear though he was to far away to be seen in specific detail.

Michael waved at him, a half forced laugh escaping him. _Not the best execution…_He thought to himself wearily.

"Michael, you're bleeding!" Fi exclaimed when he joined her and Sam in the Charger. Fiona didn't look any better, though.

"No big deal. Are you okay?" Michael brushed it off, instantly worried about her.

Fi smiled wryly. "I'm alive aren't I?" She pulled out a first aid kit that Sam had stashed in the car prior to them coming. Tearing apart the package with her teeth, she covered the wound on his upper arm with half a roll of gauze tightly, to try and stop the bleeding.

Michael caught her chin in one hand, turning to her head to inspect multiple bruises and cuts that mottled her skin an ugly purple. Once again, rage rose to unsteady levels within him.

Fiona clearly saw it. "Michael. I'm okay—."

"No you're not Fi. He hurt you. _Badly_. That bastard will pay for what he did to you." Michael growled.

Fi smiled wanly. "Glad to know you'll take revenge for me, but we should probably just head back to you're place." She leaned her head against the back of the seat, her breath easing a tiny bit. She felt safer now.

"We've got bigger problems Mikey. For one, Merenov's in the trunk. Two, I'd bet a hundred mojitos there's gonna be guys all over the loft by the time we get there. Three, I can here sirens. We gotta get moving. Pavel already took off with Ninel. They're gonna meet us back at your moms."

"Fine." Michael deadpanned, putting the car in drive and peeling out.

*(*)*

"Stop fussing. I'm fine." Fiona whined, pushing Michael away. He ignored her though, and continued his ministrations.

"Fi, you are not okay." He responded, lifting her bloodied shirt up just enough to inspect the damage on her back. He covered the wounds up after he cleaned them thoroughly with a bottle of vodka and a soft washcloth. He dropped the cloth back in the warm water and busied himself with some of the smaller cuts and slices on her face and arms.

The entire time Fi watched him, not saying a word, but searching his eyes for some type of emotion. She doubted she would see anything—usually she didn't—but this time she could see some of the cold hatred that made his eyes light up. For a moment, she was actually sort of scared of Michael—she only saw that kind fury whenever he was involved in a particularly trying case.

"Here," Michael said wearily, taking out the Chain of Office from where he had stuffed it in his pocket. He looped it around her neck, making her look like a Russian embassy of some sort.

"Michael, you're bleeding all over my carpet!" Madeline called to her son, setting down the basket she had full of laundry to rush over to him.

Michael glanced at the wound, noting with some apprehension that it was again dripping blood; the sticky red liquid had already seeped through the bandage Fi had stuck on it only a half an hour ago.

"Dammit." He growled, "Fi… The bullets still in there, can you…?"

"Of course." Fi sat up, "Madeline can you find me a knife and a lighter?"

Maddie pulled a lighter out of her pocket and threw it to Fi, then went to the kitchen, pulling out one of the drawers to find what she wanted—a Swiss army knife.

"I was looking for that." Michael commented, eyeing the knife as Fi took it in one hand and dipped it in the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"You left it in your room a while back ago. I held onto it in case you asked for it back. I'm guessing you're not going to tell me what happened?" Madeline asked, sarcasm dripping from her scratchy voice. When Michael didn't answer, Madeline sighed and turned on her heel in search of another lighter and her cigarettes muttering, "And you wonder why I smoke."

Fi unwound the bandage, and whistled at the sight of the wound. It was turning a little green around the edges. She held one of the many blades under the little flame for a few seconds then well it was still hot, used it to dig out the bullet.

Michael hissed in pain, and he tried not to scream, just holding his breath until his face was all red and Fi had finished taking the bullet out with the delicacy of a Russian nursemaid and sowed it up with a needle that felt like it was the size of a knitting needle.

"We really must have made him angry," Fi said, humor tinting her tone. "He was using hollow points." She brandished the little chunk of torn and twisted metal.

"I don't see what's funny about that Fi."

"Calm down Michael. I was just saying Ninel and I made him mad. It is rather amusing that a super spy like you managed to get shot during a simple grab 'um and go mission." She wrapped another bandage around his arm and hit the wound lightly, making Michael grunt in pain.

"I think Sam is all done getting Merenov ready."

"Where is he?" Michael asked as he dug through the laundry basket his mom had brought in order to find a shirt that wasn't stained with blood. He found one, and struggled long enough putting it on with his hurt arm that Fiona sighed and helped him into it.

"One of the various empty buildings around Miami. I think it was the old Birchwood hotel a little ways down the road. You know, the little place that was a family bed and breakfast? It just closed down a month ago."

"Yeah, I remember it. I'm gonna go over. You stay here with my mom and, Fi… try not to blow anything up. I want you to rest and be safe. Okay?"

"Yeah. You took all my C-4 anyway. I only have the two blocks in my purse." She said glumly. "And Michael?" Fi called as he started walk away. He paused, halfway through the doorway.

She walked up to him, standing on her tiptoes so she could get closer to him. "Thanks for coming to get me." She whispered, leaning in dangerously close—so close that he might kiss her without thinking about it.

"Your welcome, Fi."

"Oh and one more thing." Fiona said after him as he climbed in his car.

"Yeah?"

"Punch Merenov in the face for me."

Michael smiled.

"I was planning on it."

*(*)*

_sorry it took me a while to get this one out too. I'm just having a lot of trouble with a stupid writers block I spent twenty minutes just trying to remember a synonym for bright before I finally gave up and just used a synonym word suggested. DX_

_please review :3 it makes me write faster :D and a big thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and anyone who's favorited or put this story on alerts. It makes me feel awesome ;3 _

Lots of love,

gilraenstar :D


	5. Chapter 5

Heya guys, yeah im still alive ;) anyway sorry for the delay and I give you chapter 5

Little Lion Man

Chapter 5

_Most spy movies nowadays—or any action movies really—with interrogation scenes usually involve prisoners hand-cuffed to a chair in a dark room, the only light coming from an incredibly bright lamp pointed directly at their face. This is common and almost expected. So, do something uncommon and unexpected. _

Sam already had Merenov tied to the chair, a bag still over his head. Merenov was still out cold, and covered in his own blood. Sam had patched him up best he could. The wound wasn't that bad, but the bullet had buried itself right in his collarbone.

Michael helped Sam position him on the edge of the flat-topped roof of the old bed and breakfast, looking to the pavement down below. One kick and he would go over the edge, possibly breaking a few bones. As long as he didn't land on his neck head he would survive the fall. It would still hurt though. That was good enough for Michael. Barely.

When it comes to promises he makes with Fi, He tries not to break them. When those promises include nearly breaking his knuckles by punching the bastard that tortured Fi… that was just a well made promise with an extra perk.

His fist connected with Merenovs jaw, a satisfying crunch following.

Merenov jerked awake, nearly throwing himself off the edge. Michael hooked his foot underneath one chair leg to keep him from tipping over.

Now Michael decided to pull the hood off his head and spin the chair back around so Merenov once more faced the ground below.

"You know Merenov, I thought you Russians knew better than to mess with Michael Westen. St. Petersburg '97 not enough of a warning?" Michael deadpanned, pretending to be more interested in his pistol than Merenov's reply.

"I was not messing vith you. Not to begin vith."

Michael fired a single shot in the sky, startling both Merenov and Sam. "You mess with me, when you mess with Fiona. If you didn't want me in this, you shouldn't have brought Fiona into it. Now," Michael said, his voice slowly descending from a yell until it was back to its normal inflection. "Why do you want the Chain of Office?"

"Why vould I tell you anything?" Merenov chuckled.

"Because I'm five seconds away from pushing you over." Michael gritted through his teeth, standing right behind the Russian.

"A fall from this height won't kill me."

"That's what I'm hoping for." Michael muttered. With one harsh kick, Merenov flew off the roof, landing on the ground with a sick thud and strangled cry.

Sam went down to retrieve Merenov, who was once again unconscious and handcuffed him to the bar in the restaurant part of the building.

"We'll get him to talk later." Michael told Sam half-heartedly.

The two headed back to his mothers' house in silence, unsure what to say to one another.

"He didn't talk, did he?" Fi asked when they got home.

Fi sighed when Michael shook his head no.

Madeline set four glasses of tea on the dining room table telling them all to take a seat.

Fi took Michaels right hand in both of hers, inspecting the bruise that had begun to form across his knuckles.

"You really enjoyed hitting him didn't you?" She asked smiling up at him.

Michael smiled back. "I did. Too bad you didn't see it."

"Yeah…"

"So, Michael." Madeline interrupted them, her own glass of tea set down on the table with a dull and condemning thud. "I think you owe me an explanation."

"Suuuure, Ma." was his unenthusiastic reply.

"Seriously, Michael! You get Fi kidnapped, then you nearly get yourself killed, and you got blood all over my carpet, and then you bring back my future daughter in law with a broken leg and signs of torture."

"Did you're mother just propose to me for you?" Fi asked quietly, humor in her voice, showing she was closer to being back to her normal self. Sam barely suppressed a chuckle.

"No Fi." Michael snapped. "Look mom, I'm sorry okay? There wasn't much I could do. I can pay for the carpet."

"I don't really care about the carpet. It was ugly anyway. But still. Next time try not to get shot, okay honey?" All of a sudden Madeline was happy again as she light up another cigarette. She walked back to her room, closing the door to her room quietly.

The argument was over before Michael even had time to say more than three sentences.

"She's almost as good at arguing her point as you are Mike." Sam said, standing to get himself a beer to replace the tea he had finished.

"Yeah. I learned from the best." Michael said bleakly. He glanced to Fi, who still held his hand in hers. "She thinks we should be dating." He stated simply.

"We should," Fi agreed.

"Yeah, I didn't think it was a great idea ei—wait. You agree with my mom?"

"Michael, I've been trying to get us into a relationship since a month after I found you half dead in a hotel room."

"I'm gonna go drink outside." Sam said, already trying to run for it.

"You know we can't."

"Why not?" She pouted at him. His heart caught in his throat. She was too good for him. That was what he wanted to tell her. Fiona Glennane was to good for some blacklisted spy with nothing but a crappy place to stay and some yogurt to his name.

"Because. I can't… stand to think about you getting hurt again because of my stupid mistakes." He blurted out.

Fiona sighed.

Michael was saved from talking anymore by a ring at the door. Funny how the same conversation with his mother ended the same way.

Michael stood, keeping eye contact with Fi the entire way to the door.

"Michael." Pavel breathed, seeming out of breath. Ninel clung to his arm, seeming unwilling to get even a foot from her brother. She was still slightly off after the whole captured thing.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" Michael asked slowly, standing aside to let them in. He glanced briefly at the table, noticing that Fi had managed to limp away during the time he wasn't looking.

"One of his men threatened us." Ninel answered, her voice shaky. "He said they would come after us if we didn't bring Merenov back."

"It's worse though." Pavel added, "We were being followed on our way down here—I got rid of them a while back, but I'm certain they knew we were headed here. I had to warn you."

"How many?" Michael demanded, closing the door behind them a little harder than he intended to.

"Only three or four. They were in a black sedan. They could be here any moment."

Just then, Sam rejoined them. "Hey, there's a suspicious lookin' car out there,"

"Damn. Less time then I thought." Pavel said furiously. "What do we do?"

"Stay calm. Sam, get Fi and my mom out of here. Find a safe place, use cash only. Pavel, take Ninel with you and follow Sam."

"Whoa there Mike. You can't be thinking about staying here yourself without backup."

"Don't worry about it Sam. " Michael said simply, taking his mothers shotgun from where she had it hidden. He thought about using it, but decided he would only if he had too.

"I have a feeling these cronies are more afraid of Michael Westen than their boss is. Now go."

Sam gave him a long pleading look, but he left without another word, dragging Pavel and Ninel along behind him.

As he started to load the shotgun, Michael could hear Fi's protests. When Sam finally convinced her, she shouted so he could hear easily, "Michael if you don't come back in one piece I'll kick you're ass!"

He didn't doubt it.

*(*)*

_Russians are just about the most predictable people when it comes to breaking in to a secure location like an enemy base. They use the same tactics, but depend on the element of surprise. Take away their element and they fall—hard._

When the front door was smashed down, the first Russian named Sergei was surprised to see the room was empty.

The other three found themselves in a similar situation.

That was when Michael jumped. Pouncing out from his hiding spot behind the couch, he tackled Sergei, both men falling to the floor, struggling to get a hold on one another. Michael knew this was the same man that had broken his ribs the first time they had broken into the loft.

Sergei gave a grin, revealing he was missing three teeth, and smashed one chunky fist against Michaels ever aching ribs. Michael let out a yell as pain once again brightened and nearly blinded him

By then the other three men had heard the commotion, and came rushing to Sergei's aid.

Their guns were aimed, but it was impossible to shoot without hitting both men.

Michael finally gained control of the fight, wrapping his legs around Sergei and rolling him over so Sergei was half on top of him and he had his back against the wall. Sergei stopped struggling when the three poised to shoot.

"Стреляйте и вы убьете его." Shoot and you kill him.

Michael gasped, the weight on him practically crushing his rebroken ribs. "Put you're guns down and I'll let him go." He said, hurting to badly to concentrate on speaking Russian correctly.

"Tell us vhere Merenov is, and ve will let you go." One spoke up, his English fairly good.

"I can't do that." Michael replied. Behind his back he had dialed Fi's number on his phone and called her. Michael could barely hear her say hello. He slid the phone across the floor behind him, putting it out of sight behind a long curtain in the sunroom. None of them noticed the motion.

"Tell us where Merenov is!" One roared.

Sergei bucked, wrestling until Michael was lying on his stomach and Sergei sat on top of him.

Michael could barely breath past what felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders. A single grunt escaped his lips as the movement jarred him badly.

"Fine!" He gasped out, his face turning red from the effort. "He's downtown, in one of the storage rooms I rent!" He shouted loud enough, making sure Fi would be able to hear him on the other line.

The weight was lifted, and Michael pulled in a wheezy breath, the oxygen lessening the burn in his lungs by no more than a hairsbreadth.

"You lie!"

"I'm not lying! We had to clear it out when the police were on our tails so I put him there! I don't lie when my life is on the line!" Oh the irony.

"Take us there." Sergei said, dragging Michael to his feet by his wounded arm. Michael hissed at the pain. He had more pain today than he had in a long time. A long time being about a week.

"If you lie… you're dead, Westen." Sergei whispered in his ear.

"Oh goody." Michael mumbled to himself.

*(*)*

Fi answered her phone on the first ring, hoping it was Michael just calling to tell them it was a false alarm.

"Hello?"

She heard someone talking in the background, but it wasn't clear. Then she heard someone yell, _"Tell us where Merenov is!"_

She pressed the phone closer to her ear, hoping to hear better. She heard Michael reply, _"I can't do that."_

There was a bit of tussling and she heard Michael cry out.

A bit of silence and then, "Fine! He's downtown, in one of the storage rooms I rent!"

Fiona didn't catch most of what happened next, but then she heard something that made her heart skip a beat. _"If you lie… you're dead, Westen."_

Oh, goody, Fiona thought.

"What is it Fi?" Sam asked, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance at her.

"They have Michael." She whispered.

*(*)*

ahhh, good to be back again! Feel like I haven't posted in ages! Anyways, sorry for the weigth again :p I posted a new story called 'We Never Change' to kind of make up for the incredibly variable times of updating. Sorry.

Anyway, hope you guyz like this chapter—a lot happened. Now Michaels kidnapped D8 muahhahahaha I feel so evil But who doesn't love Michael whumpage?

Plz review! I love to know what you guys think!

If you have any suggestions or things you wanna see in chapta 6 put it in a comment and maybe it'll happen!

Big thanx to everyone who's reviewed so far and a bigger thanks to anyone who favorited or put this on alerts. I wuv you guys! Anyone who reviews this chapter gets a virtual cookie with virtual chocochips!

lots of love,

gilraenstar :D


	6. Chapter 6

Little Lion Man

Chapter 6

"What do you mean they have Mikey?" Sam asked looking away from the road to long and nearly swerving into the guardrail.

"Exactly what I said Sam!" Fi hissed, "The stupid Russians took them with him to make sure he wasn't lying."

"Oh. Was he lying?"

Fi gave him a look that said it all.

"Shit." Sam spun the car around in a big u-turn, and Fi started calling

*(*)*

_Lying is just about the most important part of being a spy. There are times when lying is the only thing that is between you and standing in front of a firing squad. A lot of times, lying will only give you about ten minutes to come up with a better plan. So, if you're lying, make sure you're team knows the lie and comes up with a plan that will be suitable to your situation without the people your lying to know something is up._

Michael shifted in his hands cuffs, unthinkingly tugging at them, trying to slide them off his wrists. The only thing that got him was a whack over the head by the one named Sergei. When Michael looked up to glare at him, he saw something he had been waiting to see. Fear. It glimmered bright in all of their eyes now, and Michael would be sure to take advantage of it.

"You know, I never understood why you Russians are all so afraid of me. At least you guys anyway." Michael said, changing his voice slightly so he sounded a tiny bit crazy.

Sergei glowered at him. "Ve are not afraid of you."

"Uh huh yeah. That's why you're buddy who's driving has shaky hands. Unless he's just cold. It _is_ pretty cold in Miami around this time of year." Michael sassed, smiling despite his situation.

Sergei once again took an angry whack at him. But, Michael being the super spy he is, lifted his hands long enough to twist the links of the hand cuffs around Sergei's hand, making the Russian grunt and try with his left hand. That one connected, but Michael tried his best to look unaffected.

"Now, now Sergei. No need to get angry." Michael whispered to the Russian.

Sergei still gave have the evil eye, but restrained from hitting Michael anymore, much to his relief.

_I just have to hope Fi knows what I meant…_Michael thought as they were about twenty minutes away from where he supposedly had Merenov stored. If Fi didn't get the message… Sergei would have a new punching bag to take his anger out on.

*(*)*

Fi was beginning to realize how much of an idiot Michael could be.

Sam was beginning to realize how much both Michael and Fi complained about each other to him. He didn't really mind, as long as he got a beer out of it, but right now, with Fi practically chatting until his ears bled and the overwhelming sense of 'if you don't go over a hundred mph your best friend is gonna die', he couldn't concentrate.

"Fi. Stop. We can talk about Mike being an idiot later but if you aren't quiet we might be talking at his funeral.

Fi snapped her mouth shut audibly, and she crossed her arms, staring ahead.

"Now. Call Maddie and tell her we gotta get Mike. Don't be too specific. Don't need her screeching at me too." Sam muttered the last part to himself.

"Maddie? We're going to get Michael. Keep going. We'll catch up."

A pause followed, and Sam could almost imagine Madeline's scratchy voice on the other end asking what was wrong.

"No. He's fine Madeline. I'll call you back. Bye." She shut her phone and sighed. "Maddie wants to know what's up, but I told her we were just going to get Michael. She doesn't necessarily know he's in trouble."

"She's probably guessed." Sam said, braking momentarily on a sharp turn.

They arrived at the restaurant and Merenov was exactly where they left him, handcuffed to the bar. He was still out cold from his little escapade on the roof. Fi kicked him hard to wake him up.

Merenov gasped awake, jerking away from Fi like her touch was deadly.

"Time to go." Sam said, smiling as he slapped a piece of duct tape over the Russians mouth.

He dragged Merenov to his feet and put him in the trunk of the car, and they were off again.

"Sam… What should we do when we get there? They're going to want Merenov back and we can't just-."

"Mike should have a plan by now. My guess is we're going to just fake them out. Let them think they have Merenov and then ambush them, injure them maybe so they can't try to find him again as soon as we're done."

"Why did you let Michael stay there by himself?"

"Dammit Fi, you know how he is. Once he gets it in his mind he's gonna do it alone there's no amount of logic that can stop him. Don't go blamin' this on me. You can beat Mikey up for this later. Hey, did you even bring your crutches?"

"No." She huffed in reply, sinking down farther in her seat. "I wasn't thinking about that."

"You break your leg and you forgot to bring your crutches?" Sam said doubtfully.

"Don't worry about it!" She snapped at him, "We're almost there, so stop it with the small talk."

Sam stopped the car and got out before it was even finished moving. He grabbed Merenov from the trunk and waited as Fi unlocked the door, then set him down on the floor inside once again handcuffing him securely to the structure itself.

Fiona scrambled away, hiding safely in the car, keeping her head low. Sam stayed with Merenov, pretending to be keeping guard.

Fiona's heart raced when she heard a car coming, and she peeked over her shoulder to look. It was the same SUV that had accompanied Merenov the first time, except now the man at the wheel seemed slightly more agitated. No doubt Michael was the antagonist behind it.

"Hey there guys!" Sam called, setting down the random magazine he had been reading. "Come for him?" Up to this point, Sam still hadn't seen Michael, but now Sergei hauled him by the collar out of the car. Fi's heart raced even faster at the sight of Michael, looking a bit ruffled but unharmed.

"Trade. Merenov and the Chain of Office for his life."

"Sorry boys, we don't even have it anymore." Michael spoke up, getting nothing but a kick that made him fall to his knees.

"Whoa there. He's right-we don't have it. I'm sure we could make an agreement/ I know a good lawyer named Chuck Finley that can-."

"Enough!" Sergei roared. He yanked a knife from his boot, and brandished it frighteningly in front of Michael. "Tell us where it is, or he dies!"

Fi came from out of her cover, trotting over as fast as she could, saying, "Don't touch him!" She tore at her neck, taking off the Chain of Office like it was choking her.

"Fi…" Michael whispered. "Don't…" Another kick made him gasp and he stayed silent, struggling to stand again. Sergei tugged on his arm to help him, annoyed by the movement. She laced the thing around Merenov neck then took the key from an unwilling Sam and unlocked the cuffs, kicking him so he stood painfully upright.

"Take him and leave." Fi said coldly, pushing Merenov forward hard enough to make him stumble over his own feet. Two of the other men took him away taking him to the car where they took off the hood and duct tape conversing quietly with their leader in their native tongue.

"We made a deal Sergei. Let me go." Michael said quietly. Sergei smiled, not relenting.

"Think. Sergei Mikalavich—the man who finally killed Michael Westen. I would be considered a hero in Russia." He smiled even wider the thought seeming to please him. Both Fi and Sam took a step closer, but they couldn't stop what happened next. Not even Michael was fast enough to stop the blade from being buried between his ribs.

"No!" Fi cried, rushing forward to catch Michael as he fell.

Sam already had his pistol out, and was firing at the SUV as they sped away with their prize. "Dammit." He growled, shoving the pistol back in the waistband of his pants.

"Sam, help me." Fi said, her voice cracking a tiny bit under the pressure.

"Fi…" Michael whimpered. He squirmed, trying to get away from her probing fingers that did nothing but caused more pain.

"Stay still. Don't move." Fi replied, trying to get a better look at the wound. She might as well pull the knife out—the blood wells were doing their job, letting the blood escape past the blade where as a regular knife would keep it from leaving the body of the victim.

"Fi, we have to get him out of here." Sam said simply, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed the incident.

"Wait. We at least have to stop the bleeding." She said, taking of her blouse, leaving her in only a simple white undershirt. She started tearing it up, making a makeshift bandage. "Pull it out." She said coldly, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was proving difficult.

"Fi, if I pull it out he'll bleed to death." Sam protested as he noticed Mike was getting paler every second.

"I know Sam. But it'll just cause more damage if we leave it there and we don't have time to argue. Pull it out."

Sam winced at her words, and gripped the handle of the knife, muttering to Michael who had passed out moments ago, "Sorry Mikey." He pulled upward on it sharply, trying not to do anymore damage.

Michael jerked awake, letting out a choked cry that nearly tore Fiona's heart in two.

"It's all right," Fi said calmly trying to soothe the injured ex-spy. "It's me… your okay…" She took the cloth stripes and folded them together keeping pressure on the wound. Michael gripped her arm with one hand, cutting off circulation in her hand.

"We should get going." Sam said, getting to his feet again. "Help me get him into the car. You'll have to start stitching him up while I drive."

*(*)*

_Getting wounded during an operation is a spy's worst nightmare. Knowing you're in bad shape and can't perform your job means you have effectively just compromised the mission and left your team members to clean up after the mess you make. Another thing about being injured is that being down and out means doing absolutely nothing and having to like it._

Michael remembered little glimpses and pieces of when he would sometimes surface before falling back into the darkness; Fi's anxious face above him, his mother smoking by his bedside—or was it a couch? He couldn't tell.

It was maybe two days later that he finally woke up for longer than a few seconds, and that was because a kick from a certain someone brought pain rifling up through his abdomen harsh enough to make him gasp awake.

"Michael?" Fi said, leaning closer to him.

"You really need to stop kicking me when I've been mortally wounded." He mumbled, giving her a wan smile.

She chuckled. "Sorry. It's a bad habit." Her face morphed in to one that was a mixture of worry and guilt. "They have the Chain of Office, Michael."

"I know." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He sat up, ignoring he throbbing in his side.

"Don't get up." Fi said, trying to push him back against the pillows.

"Fi. I'm fine." He protested, trying to brush her away, finding with disdain that he was having trouble controlling his movements.

"No you're not Michael." She replied in a matter of fact tone. "You got _stabbed_ and you think you're okay. Lay back down and I'll tell exactly how _fine_ you aren't."

Michael did as she said, even though he didn't like the thought of doing nothing. He now noticed where they were. He had sworn that he never would come back in his old room, but here he was, on the all too familiar lumpy bed in the room with bare walls. One wall had a badly covered hole in it, from when Michael had dodged one of his father's drunken blows.

Fi brought him back to reality. "Punctured a lung and you lost over four pints of blood. Yesterday you were delirious from a fever of 104 from the wound being infected. Your fever just broke this morning. Maddie, Sam, and I have been taking turns with you."

"Ah. I see. Do you know what's up with Merenov?" He asked hopefully knowing what the answer was before she answered. He felt grimy and gross.

"No. No news as of yet around here. I was looking through the Russian news though. They haven't returned it. I'm guessing they'll hold it ransom or something."

"All right," was all he said in reply, showing no emotion.

"I'm going to get Maddie and Sam. Don't get up, okay?" She warned, standing to leave.

As soon as she shut the door Michael took the chance to let his head fall on the pillow and groan. His side was _killing_ him, but he had stuff to do.

He sat up slowly, falling back when the wound screamed in protest.

Just then the three entered the room and Fi rushed forward, making him lie back down. Fi unbuttoned his shirt enough to see if the stitches had been torn out. She scolded him profusely. "I told you not to move."

"Sorry." He gave her his shark smile, hoping it would melt her enough to get her to stop her nagging.

"Don't give me that," She said, the smile instantly wiped off his face like she had slapped him with words.

"Michael, you really oughta be more careful." Madeline said, puffing out smoke faster than a dragon. "You getting stabbed is another thing to add to my list."

"Not this again, ma…" Michael said, the stress and pain making him a lot more whinny than usual.

"I'm not getting into this now." She said, waving a hand at him, "But don't think you're getting out of it. And get better soon honey!" She called, walking out to go retrieve another pack of cigarettes. "And Fi, if he demands a shower you at least have to be in there with him."

Michael and Fi smiled suggestively at each other, much to Sam's horror

"Whoa there Maddie! Do you realize what you just said?" Sam said with an appalled expression.

"Yes. Maybe I'll get grandchildren then. A mother can hope you know Sam." Maddie chuckled, leaving the three to gape after her.

*(*)*

sorry, couldn't help it :D Michael whumpage is fun to write . anyways, I tried to get this one out a little sooner than the others cus I left you all on a bigger than normal cliffy and I felt bad XD. Instead I got him stabbed. I feel so evil, but I just couldn't figure out how the Russians would get merenov back without mortally wounding mike :p so he gets stabbed X0

oh, and another thing, if anyone here likes fantasy stories ( which you probably dont) and you likehow i write or whatever, please go check out my story called Fireclaw on Fictionpress. There is a link on my profile to my profile on fictionpress. Fanfiction is Fictionpresses sister site, so they're like exactly the same except its all original works over there. pretty cool, so check it out if you want, much obliged :D

please review, they makes me happy inside :D


	7. Chapter 7

_Aghhh, soooooo sorry its very late, please don't hurts me D: its really late and I've been working all nite so forgives me pwease. _

Little Lion Man

Chapter 7

_Two days later…_

"Fi…Help me up."

"No. You're supposed to be resting," She said in a monotone as she scanned over several newspapers.

"Then I'll get up myself," Michael grumbled, trying to prop himself up on his elbows.

"Then I'll just have to tie you to a post. _Just stop squirming_. You'll just make it worse for yourself in the end."

Michael glared at her, but found that he couldn't hold the look any longer than three seconds when confronted with her beautiful green eyes. He sighed. "Found anything yet?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Fiona…"

"I don't know if I should tell you in your fragile state Michael. You might just try to get up and get yourself killed." She smiled up at him mockingly, making him frown back at her before trying his shark smile one more time. "You know it Fi."

She laughed, and went back to her papers, seeming impervious to his charm.

"Come on Fi. You can tie me to a post if you want; I just need to know what's going on." He pleaded.

"Fine, Michael." Fi sighed, picking out one of the papers and throwing it at him.

Michael smiled at her again. "Thanks Fi."

She waved him off. "Some of these are in Russian, like that one-."

"How'd you read them?" Michael interrupted fairly certain Fi couldn't speak a lick of the language.

She reached over to her bigger than usual purse and pulled out a laptop. "The internet has more than porn on it Michael." Fi snorted.

He rolled her eyes at her and started reading the translations Fi had penciled in, too tired to bother with reading the actual Russian.

_Upon further searching, the Chain of Office, which has been missing for over a year, has finally been located. Leonid Merenov, has presented the knowledge that he knows the whereabouts of the chain, and even confronted officers with a deal to hand it over for a price. Police refuses to give any information on just what this man wants, but no deal has been made as of today._

Fi threw another one at Michael. "That one says basically the same thing, but I think someone bribed one of the cops, because it tells us that what he wants isn't money."

Michael skimmed through it and raised an eyebrow at what it said. "He wants a job for Sergei?"

"He is pretty high up Michael. Being that he's a security guard for the president of Russia, he could probably get whatever he wanted in his line of work. Kind of like you, right?"

Michael didn't hear the last part. He was caught up in the last sentence thatHadn't been rewritten in English. "Fi… you didn't read all of this, did you?"

"No. Only most of it." He replied dully, still concentrating on some of the other articles

"Well you missed something that was pretty important." Michael muttered. He reached over to the little table, trying to grab the pen that sat there, grunting when the movement pulled at his stitches, almost tearing them out. He snatched the pen off the table, clicked it and wrote in the last sentence that Fiona hadn't translated.

Fi took the paper from him, giving him a wary look.

_Merenov has requested that his current employer also gets a job alongside him in security, saying that 'Sergei Chekhov is a well trusted man, who would do well for his country,'_

"So?"

"It says _employer_. Sergei was the one with the plans. Merenov just had the access and codes he needed."

"Yeah…So?" Fi repeated, still not catching on

"Merenov was just the face of the operation; Sergei was the real bad guy behind all of this. He wants to do something big, and I have a feeling it's an assassination."

Fi just gave him a blank stare. "You think they want to assassinate the Russian president?"

Michael shrugged, and started to sit up, wincing in pain. Fi put one hand on his still tender arm. "Michael…"

He ignored the warning. "I can't figure out any other possible motives. Please Fi. Let me up. If I sit here any longer I am going to scream." He said deadly quiet.

"If you get up, you'll hurt yourself." She countered easily.

He stood slowly, taking Fi's hands in his so she couldn't stop him as easily. "Michael…let me go." She tried unsuccessfully to get away from his iron grip.

"Then let me take a walk or something."

"No." She said stubbornly.

Michael did the thing she least expected, tugging her closer and pressing his lip to hers. A few seconds later he ended the deep and passionate kiss, looking at her expectantly. "Now?"

"What makes you think a kiss will change my mind?" She said, albeit a bit flustered. He had surprised her. Kissing wasn't something Michael just did randomly. Not even with her. Only after she had nearly been killed, or he had nearly died, or some spur of the moment where he could actually say he loved her, which wasn't often.

He smiled at her. "Pretty please?"

"I don't care if the please was ugly. _No._" She shoved her laptop back in her bag, trying to avoid eye contact. The smile was instantly swiped off his face.

"Can we at least go talk to Sam?"

"Sure, you can call him. I'm going to talk to your mom for a while. She's probably lonely." She threw a cell phone at him, and stalked out the room, locking the door on her way out.

"Um…Okay." Michael said to empty air as he stood there without a clue of what had just happened between them.

*(*)*

"Maddie, has Michael ever had any other girls over?" Fiona asked out of the blue when she plopped onto the couch opposite of Michaels mother "What do you mean? Like, girlfriends? Not recently no."

"Really? No old friends?"

"Except for you, no. He never really had many girlfriends. Or friends for that matter. I remember one time when his father was on a business trip in Canada and he brought one of his dates home. Her name was Heather, I think. She seemed like a nice girl, but it wasn't too much later Michael found out she was cheating on him—with another girl too, actually."

"Ooh, that's harsh." Fi replied.

"He was crushed. Never really recovered from that one. Why are you asking honey?"

"He kissed me a few seconds ago."

"Maybe I'll get kids after all." Maddie smiled dryly, puffing out smoke.

"Seriously Maddie! He never kisses me unless it's for a cover story or something like that." Fiona whispered, feeling like someone might be listening in. Not that it really mattered either way.

Maddie waved a hand through the air, making smoke curl and billow in the sunlight. "I've never really understood him when it comes to relationships. Maybe he's finally admitting he likes you."

"I don't know Madeline… He's acted a little weird around me since Ninel and I were let go." 'Let go being' a very loose term.

Madeline shrugged. "He's very protective of you. He's still angry about what Merenov did."

Fiona stayed quiet now, just thinking and looked up when a dull thud of a door opening startled her.

"Are you talking about my past without my consent again?" Michael's husky voice asked as he appeared in the hallway.

"I told you no, Michael."

He shrugged, holding up a hairpin and throwing it to her. Fi replaced it in her hair, glaring at the ex-spy. He used it to pick the lock on the door, no doubt. "I told Sam we'd meet him at the loft in twenty minutes. We should get going."

Fiona glared, and the angered Irishwoman stood toe to toe with Michael, staring deep into his blue eyes. "You might want these." She whispered, holding up his sunglasses she had picked out his pocket without him noticing.

"Thanks." He replied evenly. He put them on, and Fi was heartened to see he looked like himself again, in spite of the nearly deadly wound that made his movements slow and jerky.

*(*)*

"I've got some bad news guys." Sam called when they arrived at the loft. Michael sank into his green chair wearily.

"How bad Sam?"

"Merenov is dead." Sam replied bluntly, handing a yogurt and a spoon to Michael.

Michael just stared up at Sam, unsure how to take the news. On one hand, he was glad the bastard could burn in hell for what he did to Fi, on the other that meant their current status in this case had changed drastically. Suddenly they had a whole new element to deal with, and one they had little to no information on.

"When?" Fiona asked.

"Just this morning, about an hour after they agreed to his deal. He supposedly got hit by a bus. The authorities' say it was an accident, but from what you told me about Sergei earlier… I'm thinking he just wanted him out of the way since he got what he wanted."

"Probably." Michael muttered, slowly eating his yogurt. "How are Ninel and Pavel?"

"They called a day ago to ask the same question about you. They told me they weren't being bothered. Ninel says she finally brought her kid back home and Pavel went back to his wife, so they're pretty much out of this entire ordeal."

"Good." Michael ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Ninel and Pavel might have gotten out of this safely, but they had been thrown into it without any way of knowing when they'd get out again.

*(*)*

_Spies are expected to do their job even when they're mortally wounded. If they don't have someone to replace you right away, and they can't afford to fire you, a bullet wound and a stab wound are the least of your troubles. Add a slightly disgruntled ex-girlfriend with a love for C-4 and an ever drinking ex-Navy SEAL and you yourself being ex-spy to the mix and suddenly things go to a whole new level. Whether it's good or bad is often undecided until things start playing out, or the bullets start flying._

"So what do we do?" Fi asked as she checked Michael's bandages.

"We wait for them to make a move. There's not much else we can—oww! Careful Fi."

Fi whistled. "It looks like you tore out a stich or two. It's bleeding again, and it looks a little green."

Michael hissed as Fi pulled out the stitches and redid them, swearing in several different languages as she poured a little vodka on it too, to help with the infection that was flaring up.

"Then what?" Sam interrupted.

Michael gave him a glance. "I really don't know, Sam."

"If we wait, Sergei could assassinate the prez without us even-."

"I know Sam. There's not much to do. We don't even know if that's what they want to do. If we can warn them or something…tell them something is up…"

Fi startled him when she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Whoa there Fi, if you're gonna start that let me leave first." Sam said, turning away from them.

"Shut up Sam. I'm checking his temperature."

"Oh. I'm glad then."

"He's a little overheated," Fi admitted. "Must've been all that activity today. Probably just an infection."

"Why are you talking like I'm not here?" Michael asked, noticing that Fi didn't talk directly to him about his condition of health.

"You should give him aspirin or something." Sam replied, playing along with the lets-ignore-Michael-even-though-he's-right-there game just to annoy him.

"Yeah, I think I have some in my purse…" Fi started digging through her hand bag, still not making eye contact with Michael.

"Fi."

"Ah, here it is!" Fiona crowed, pulling out the small bottle of pills.

"Fiona. What aren't you telling me?"

She took out two of the white pills and handed them to Michael. "Take those, would you? I'm not keeping anything from you Michael. I've got to go by the way."

She walked out the door before Michael even had a chance to protest.

"What's up with her?" Michael asked as he pulled his shirt back on gingerly.

"She's just worried about ya Mikey." Sam said, clapping him soundly on the back. "You do get hurt a lot more often than anyone would like, and Fi never really gets used to it,"

Michael looked at him blankly. "What do you mean by that?"

"Think about it, Mikey. You are probably the most stressful things in all our lives right now. We're entitled to being a little frustrated with you from time to time." Sam said as he started making a sandwich.

"Yeah, I guess so." Michael said doubtfully. That might be part of Fi's issue, but Michael had a hunch there was something more to it.

*(*)*

_Ah, yes, I am still quite alive! I happen to be on vacation right now, so that's why my update was a little late. Sorry about that guys, hope I didn't loose all my readers :D anyways, I'm not very happy with this chapter, cause it didn't turn out the way I hoped, but there wasn't much I could really do with it. This chapter isn't much of an action one or anything obviously, but it's just trying to get inside their heads and see what they think is going on and how they feel. Notice how Mike and Fi are getting a little too close then pulling away cus they're al confused. Ah they're relationship is so cute._

_Reviews are love, so give some please :D much appreciated, cus they keep me going :D_


	8. Chapter 8

_ahhh sorry its sooo late!:C here forgive me and have a chapter :D_

Little Lion Man

Chapter 8

_Getting back into the flow of a job after an injury isn't easy. Stress gets to you, you tire easily, and at a point you find you don't really seem to care anymore. You just have to tough it out and hope a breakthrough turns things around._

Sam set two high stacks of papers on the counter with a huff, and started searching them.

"Any change Fi?" Michael asked wearily, leaning back in his chair and momentarily closing his eyes.

"I haven't finished decoding this one yet. It looks promising." She replied, typing in the Russian to google translate. A picture of Merenov was on the front page, handing the Chain of Office over to the smiling president. Another picture showed something that looked a little more violent, a crowd of people huddled around someone on the ground.

Michael watched her expression morph slowly from excited to grave.

"What is it Fi?"

"He's made his first attack," She whispered, shoving the flimsy paper his way and going on to another one, eyes scanning over it quickly as she typed in another one in to be translated.

Michael whistled. "Damn. He's good." It made Sergei look like a hero—or least he tried to be a hero. Anyone who's worked with guns knows that if you get shot with something as powerful and accurate as a Dragonuv, they know a bullet could easily pass through both bodies, and that's exactly what it did. Sergei had pretended to be the good guy and got in front of the bullet, but it passed through him and still killed whom he was pretending to save.

"What?" Sam asked, poking his head out of the fridge in order give Michael a questioning look.

"He assassinated the vice president. We thought he would go after the president first…He's probably trying to take down the base before he takes out the top, trying to weaken them before he goes in for the final blow." Michael stood, pacing around the room in frustration. He turned his anger on Fi, seeming unable to keep it in check.

"You shouldn't have given it to him Fi," He growled.

Fiona dropped what she was doing to look at him. "Are you blaming this on me, Michael? We saved your life,"

"And now Sergei wants to make anarchy Russia's future,"

"What'd you care?" Fi snapped back, getting up in Michael's face. "It wasn't to long ago you were on missions in St. Petersburg and made Russians shit their pants, picking them off one by one! If I didn't give it to him, he would've killed you!"

"Better me than the entire Russian Government, plus the hundreds he'll kill after that," He shouted back, giving her a cold look. Fi didn't like it. She had seen that look before, often when he was about to pull the trigger of a killing shot. She never had seen it aimed at her. She never wanted to see it again.

"Mikey…" Sam says quietly, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't like it when they fought. It was like Ares and Athena facing off in the smallest room possible. It was explosive and quick, and usually both parties walked away with a feeling of lose.

"You are the most _ignorant_ person I know!" She hissed at him. Fi spun away from him, only facing him when her hand was an inch away from the door.

"Fi. Wait!" Sam said before she could say something to Michael.

She glared at Sam with more contempt than usual, and that's saying something. "What Sam?" She asked coldly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but, don't leave. We can't do this without you. And Mikey-," Sam turned on Michael who froze when he realized he was about to be berated by his teammate. "—Don't talk to Fiona like that. I'm putting my foot down right now." Sam smiled, "I guess you could almost call it an intervention. Anyways, you guys are going to get along until this case is done."

"But-," Fi started to protest.

"Shut it sister!" Sam snapped. Fiona closed her mouth with an audible click.

"Fi may have handed the thing over, but she saved your life either way. If you died and they got it we'd be down and out a team member and then we'd be screwed." Fiona smiled triumphantly.

"Now stop arguing long enough for us to finish this case. You can fight like teenagers when we finish this up. Got it?"

Both of them stared at him open mouthed, not believing what they had just heard. Sam had just ended a fight with the speed of a marriage consular, except Fiona and Michael weren't married and they were fighting about something different than cheating on each other.

"Now apologize. You go first Mike." Sam smiled. "I need a beer."

Fiona huffed and took a seat next to Michael. "I'm sorry Fi."

"You're forgiven." Then, she continued, sounding more than a little sarcastic, "I'm sorry I saved you're life, Michael. I guess it's just a habit. I'm used to saving your ass." She smiled at him brightly, trying to hide the fact she was still smarting fro his earlier comments.

Michael just stared at her, unsure what to say in reply to that.

"Okay. So what's the big plan Mike?" Sam asked, nursing his beer and standing at the counter.

Michael rubbed his temples, unsure what to tell him. "I honestly don't know." He was saved from being berated by his phone ringing sharply, the painfully high note making a headache start to form. He groaned when he saw that it was his mother who called, and wondered if he should ignore it, after a moment of weighing the consequences, he answered.

"Yeah Ma?"

"Michael, there's someone here who wants to talk to you," His mother said, sounding happy.

"Umm… okay." He replied slowly, wishing he hadn't picked up.

"Hey bro," Someone said over the other line. Nate.

"Nate. What're you doing in town?" Michael asked quickly. Fi raised her eyebrows when she heard Nate's name and Sam gave him a slightly sympathetic glance.

"What, no, 'Oh hey how's it going my only sibling that I never see'?"

"How's it going sibling I never see?" Michael asked flatly, not even bothering to feign interest.

"Just dandy, seeing as how I was told you were dead."

That was one way to spark Michael's interest. "Who told you I was dead?"

"I got a call from some guy he said he was with the FBI. So, I can home. And now I'm here, talking to you and you're not dead." There was a brief silence with a light sound of muffled laughter; "I almost had my hopes too," Maddie hit him hard enough for the angry sound to register over the speaker.

"Well sorry to disappoint you Nate. I guess you can blame Fiona for that." Michael said in response. Fiona glared at him.

Maddie had taken the phone back from his younger brother and said worriedly, "Can you come over for a while so you can discuss this with your brother?"

Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah, sure Ma. I'll be there in ten minutes." He hung up without waiting for her answer, and stood keeping one hand on his chair until he gained his balance.

"Sam would you mind…"

"I'll talk to your FBI buddies, yeah."

"Fi would you come with-."

Fiona busied herself with picking at her nails. "Sure Michael."

Michael tried a smile. "Thanks Fi."

"Don't thank me. Your mother wanted to talk to me. I was going to come anyways." She huffed.

Michael sighed and they walked out together, feeling a little apprehensive.

It was Sam's turn to sigh after they walked out, and found to his dismay that his beer was already gone. He went to the fridge to grab another one but learned that he had just finished the last one.

He was having a terrible day, and it was about to get worse.

*(*)*

_ehhh I am sooooooo sorry it took this long to get this out. I've been having problems with connections and stuff and I haven't had time to post at all. It's the last week of school for my freshman year and I've been freakin pounded by finals and crap :/_

_this chapter seems…. I dunno a little awkward to me, but I tried to make them fight like they really would and then have Sam come in to stop it. I'm sorry this one is short to but I'm kindof running on coffee and ideas right now, and in my house we're running short on both _

_hope you like_

_reviews are love,_

_so send some my way I'll I'll give ya a cookie! Annnnnnnd another chapter within the next week!_


	9. Chapter 9

_YAY update, that's somewhat on time :D !_

Little Lion Man

Chapter 9

Sam sighed, pulling a hand through his graying hair. He swore he had a gray hair for every time Michael nearly got himself killed.

He walked onto the balcony, pulling his phone out of his pocket to look through his contact list. Sam didn't see the man in black hiding just outside until he had a cord wrapped around his neck cutting off his air.

Sam gasped, hooking a finger underneath the tight cord to try and get some leverage. He could feel the weight of someone pressing against his back, so he did the only thing could. He let himself fall backward, trying to smash the assailant into the ground so he would loose his grip. It worked. The wiry man let out a cry and swore vehemently in Russian.

Russian. Of course. Now Sam was on their hit list too. Michael so owed him.

Sam took in a short explosive breath and scrambled to his feet, trying to get a good look at the person who just tried to strangle him, but the criminal was already on his way out.

"Hey!" Sam shouted after him, his voice a little scratchy. "If you gonna try and kill me, at least have the guts to try and finish the job, damn Cossack!" Sam rubbed his throat, thinking, _I'm starting to sound a little like Madeline._

*(*)*

Michael picked up his phone on the second ring. "What's up Sam?"

"We're out of beer again Mikey."

"Did you call me just to tell me we're out of your favorite alcoholic beverage?" Michael said incredulously. Fi snickered beside him as he stopped the car and opened the car and started walk to the front door of his mother's house painfully slow.

"Ehh. No. Wait. What did I…? Oh yeah. One of your Russian buddies just tried to kill me."

Michael stopped in his tracks. "What? Someone tried to kill you and beer is the first thing on your mind?" Fiona bumped into him, startled by the sudden stop. She raised an eyebrow at the words 'tried to kill you'.

"Well, you know me Mike, the ever drinking, never drunk guy." Sam said jokingly.

"Any idea who it was?"

"He swore in Russian, so I'm guessing it was one of Merenovs—oops sorry, Sergei's goons."

"You gonna be okay by yourself over there?"

Sam snorted. "I'm not that old. I'm on my guard, so I should be fine. Later brother."

"Bye Sam."

"Who tried to kill Sam?" Madeline asked, standing in the door way, a cigarette in hand.

"Sam's fine, ma. Where's Nate?"

"Right here bro. Wow, you're looking less dead than usual." Nate peered around his mother. "Mom, let um in. There gonna be here awhile."

Madeline let Fi and Michael come past her before shutting the door and making smoke swirl around in the bright sunlight.

Michael coughed. "Jesus, Ma. How many packs have you gone trough today?" He plopped down on the nearest chair with a grunt of pain.

"Two, Michael, but I have plenty good reason." Madeline croaked.

"She's right you know." Fi agreed with her just to get on Michaels nerves.

"Quiet Fiona. You're part of it too. I haven't seen you use those crutches once since you got hurt. Go get them and use them. They're in the back room." Madeline shot at the unsuspecting Fi, whose eyes grew wide at the accusation. She stood and wobbled to the backroom to receive said crutches rather than face the wrath of Mama Westen.

Nate chuckled. "Hate to say it, but I love seeing you get grilled, Mike."

"Nate. Shut it. I know of plenty times where Michael saved your ass and got his in trouble."

"I got shot in the shoulder for you. " Michael reminded him proudly.

"I pulled the bullet out," Nate stated, crossing his arms.

"With the delicacy of a klingon." They slowly started raising their voices until they were shouting.

"I did what you told me too, and I don't even know what that is."

"I said small incision."

"Well, _excuse_ me princess-"

"Both of you stop it!" Maddie snapped, whacking each of her sons over the head with a magazine she grabbed off the table. "Quit acting like a bunch of kids. You aren't ten anymore. Now, talk about whatever you have to then we're going to have dinner. God help you if I'm making a cake if cause if boys don't settle down, I'll burn my recipe book and cook without."  
>Nate and Michael instantly stopped their bickering, much to Maddie's approval.<p>

Maddie walked into the kitchen, pulling out her cookbook and setting it dangerously close to the oven as a way of saying, _do it, you won't_.

"So what's up bro? Any recent near death experiences I should know about?

"I got stabbed." Michael replied evenly, crossing his arms so that he mirrored Nate.

"Ouch. Same old same old, then. Where's the other guy?"

"_Sam_ is at the loft." Michael stressed the name, knowing that Nate still remembered it but just wanted to annoy him.

"And you girlfriend is still here. Surprising she's still here. You're a suckish boyfriend."

"_Nate_." Maddie warned, pushing the book just a little bit closer to the edge of the stove.

"We're not dating. Can anyone get that through their head?" Michael wondered out loud. "Just forget it. Who told you I was dead?"

"This guy said he was from the FBI. Said you'd died in some kind of car accident? I dunno."

"Did he give you a name?"

"Just called himself Lt. Johnson. Which, is probably about as generic as you could get."

"Did he have an accent or anything?"

"Yeah…. He had a little trouble with w's and v's. Like, he kept switching them around, but other than that he spoke great English."

Michael massaged his temples. "This is gonna be harder than I thought."

"Michael, do you know where Fi went?" Maddie called from the kitchen.

"You told her to get her crutches."

"Well, what's taking her so long? I need some help making this spaghetti."

"I'll find her." Michael said simply. "I'll be right back Nate."

"Gotchya Bro. Go find your girlfriend.

Michael ignored him.

He found Fi in his room, sitting on the floor and looking through his closet. "Fi… what're you doing?"

"Just looking, really. I didn't know you liked classical music Michael. I always figured you to be more of a hard core rock guy." Fi said, holding up one of the Mozart CD's she found.

"I'm not. My mom played these for us when we were kids. She thought it made us smarter."

Fi poked her head out to look at him and smiled. "Well, I'd say your pretty smart. Ooh. What's this?" Fi cooed, pulling out a dusty bottle. Inside was a little pirate ship he had made when he was twelve.

"That's ancient." Michael said, smiling as he remembered making it. One time he had gotten so frustrated that he had thrown the half made ship inside the bottle across the room, shattering the glass and ruining it. He had started over the next day.

Fi put it back and brought out another object from his past. A picture. It was his mother, still young and pretty, holding a baby. Michael stood next to in between his mother and a man. Everyone was smiling in that picture, Michael and his father included.

"You look adorable."

"Thanks Fi." Michael gave her a tiny smile and took the photo from her, discreetly putting it in his pocket. "Come on. My mom wants you to help her make dinner."

"All right." Fi smiled back up at him brightly, seeming to have finally lost her snippy mood.

*(*)*

ehhhh. Sorry it's a day late. I've been having a little trouble concentrating on some of my fanfics lately. I'm writing another story that's totally taking my attention right now . sorry, I'm trying to keep updating fairly regular, but even though it's summer, it's proving difficult :D I jusft had a lot of fun writing that fight scene between mike and nate. Hope you like it too

oh, and Sam calls the russian guy who tried to kill him a cossack. for those who don't know, cossacks were kind of like these totally sick and twisted russian soldiers that would, like, weat their victims. yeah. not nice people. so, it's a major insult to them nowadays.

reviews plz?

Oh, and thanks to the few people who just added this to alerts and favs! You guys make me happy! :D don't forget to leave a review


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry for the wait! D: hope you'll enjoy, and review plz!_

Little Lion Man

Chapter 10

"Hello." Someone answered on the other end. "FBI's office. How can I help you?"

"I need to talk to the Director of the FBI."

"He's in a meeting currently—oh. Never mind. You need an appointment to talk with him." The way she said never mind told Sam the man had just gotten out of the conference room.

"Tell him its Sam Axe. He'll know me."

The secretary paused, unsure what to do.

"It's urgent Miss."

Another pause, some muffled speaking in the background the only thing telling him they hadn't hung up on him yet. "I'll put you through." The woman said, still seeming unconvinced that Sam was acquainted with the director.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Director. I'm Sam Axe. Remember me?

"Oh. Axe, what do you want?" The man obviously remembered, and still held a grudge against him for what happened last time they met.

"Just some info. Did one of your agents call a Nate Westen and tell him his brother was dead?"

"Michael Westen is dead?" The director snapped.

"Sam smiled wryly. "No, quite the opposite. I'm assuming it wasn't one of you men than?"

"No. I'd know about it if we did. What is this about Axe? What's going on?"

"Can't say, really. It has to do with Russians mostly."

"Really? Russian mobs have been more active lately," The director grumbles.

"I back tracked the phone number that called Nate Westen to your location." Sam said simply, just telling a little white lie. He hadn't even talked to Nate yet. He hoped it had come from there. It might give him a bit of leverage until he heard more from Mikey.

"We never made any calls concerning him. Are you sure?"

"Sure as I can be," Not.

"I can pull up the surveillance video, see if anyone managed to breach, but…that's a big accusation, Axe. If someone was here that wasn't supposed to be, we'll know." There was a long pause, and Sam found himself tapping out a tune impatiently.

"There is someone showing up… Never seen him before…but Lt. Jeordi

just let him right in…"

"Can you send it my way? I might be able to identify the guy."

"Yeah. I'll send it over to your phone."

A few moments later a new message popped up onto his phone. "Thanks. I'll talk to you about this later." Sam said quickly.

"Very well. Bye."

Sam hung up and looked through his phone, finding the video. Even with the bad quality and tiny screen he could tell who picked up the phone and made the call.

"Damn," He said, already rushing out the door and to his car. He needed to tell Mikey what he found. Now.

*(*)*

Home cooking. Two words that sent Michael reeling back in time to days when he was ten years old and all they had was week old meatloaf that didn't taste good the day it was made. It also made him remember the first time his mother made something edible that tasted good.

It was spaghetti, and for once she managed to make the noodles just right—not crunchy and undone, not gross and chewy and overdone. They were just right. She had made the tomato sauce right too, following the recipe book Michael and Nate had given her for her birthday.

But his father came home, drunk and confused, and ended up ruining the whole thing with a single swipe, making room on the table for him to settle down with two beers and a bottle of vodka. Madeline excused herself from the table and went to her room to cry out of sight at the ruined accomplishment.

Now Michael was staring at the beer sitting in front of Nate, thinking about this experience with a blank and troubled expression.

"You okay bro?" Nate asked between shoveling a fork full of spaghetti in his mouth and swallowing it.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Madeline reprimanded, and then also noticed Michael's distracted state. "You all right, Michael?"

"Yeah, Ma. I'm fine." He answered with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The picture of a happy Westen family seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket right now. "Just thinking is all," With that, he shoved all the bad memories back and tried to continue enjoying dinner. It was proving difficult.

Once dinner was over, Michael and Fiona set to doing the dishes, creating a sort of two-part assembly line. Michael would wash them rinse, then hand than to Fi, who would put them away. They continued in this manner until Michael finally decided the silence was unbearable

"Who do you think tried to kill Sam?"

Fiona shrugged. "We know it was one of the Russians that was with Sergei. I think the why is more important."

Another dish goes in the cabinet. "They know Sam is part of our team…maybe just revenge?"

"Russians are big on revenge." Fi admits.

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation. Michael dries off his hand and opens the door, glad see it was Sam.

He looks a little ruffled, and a bright red mark stood out along his neck, like he had almost been strangled. "I called my FBI buddies Mike." Sam said as he came in and flopped onto the couch. Fi threw a beer to him and he caught it gratefully throwing a nod toward her. "Thanks Fi."

"What'd they say?" Michael asked, returning to the kitchen and sticking his hands back in the soapy water.

"According to them, they've had a lot more activity around here, and most of it is coming from the Russian mobsters. They say they didn't make any calls about you pushing up daisies, but they went over the video in the department, because they tracked the unauthorized call in their building. They sent me the surveillance tapes and asked if I could identify the guy." Nate and Madeline returned from the garage, each holding a box of

"And?"

"He had a sling on, Mikey. Sergei is back in town."

*(*)*

"I don't want to be stuck in another crappy motel for a few days Michael!" Madeline complained, taking another drag on what seemed to be her third cigarette in two minutes.

"I'm sorry, Ma. But you have to, just to be safe. I don't want either of you getting hurt." Michael said blankly. He knew his mother and sibling didn't want to be stuck here. They didn't have to keep reminding him.

"We're fine at home bro. What would they want with us anyways?"

"They know where we live Nate. They could try to hurt you to get to me. I'm not taking that chance." Michael took another look around the small and badly furnished room and sighed. "Sam will be with you for a little bit longer just to make sure you stay here."

"Fine." Nate grumbled, falling face first on the bed and just laying there, obviously unhappy with the circumstances. "You owe me brother."

Michael grimaced as he walked out. _Yeah right_.

*(*)*

_ugghhhh soooooooooooooooooo sorry this is sooooooo incredibly late! My mind has gone blank recently, and I'm having trouble concentrating on this story when I've got so many other oens to work on :P I just recently got thrown into the world of NCIS (DiNozzo for the win!) and I'm watching that like a maniac,so maybe I'll try my hand at a fanfic over in the NCIS section :D who knows._

_I'll try post again next week, an again, I'm sorry fr making you all wait so long! I'd like to Thank DaisyDay :D she's been waiting so patiently and she helped me think up an idea so I could continue :D_

_Well, talk to ya'll later, don't forget to comment plz!_


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